The Ruse
by Peacockgirl
Summary: Audrey had always been quick on her feet. Post 4x04. An alternate take on how everyone could have found out Lexi's secret. Chapter 1 - Nathan. Chapter 2 - Duke. Chapter 3 - James. Chapter 4 - Dwight.
1. Nathan

Something was wrong.

That much was clear even if everything else was a blur through the rush of returning memories. Just a moment ago Audrey Parker had walked into the Barn, leaving Haven behind. Just a moment ago Lexi DeWitt had made a leap of faith to return. Now Lexi was still there and so was the Guard, with their guns and their attitude.

At least Nathan was kneeling beside her, coaxing her back to consciousness. Somehow he'd acquired a haircut and a strange sense of calm. Last she'd seen him he'd been nearly hysterical. Now he was so steady it was freaking her out.

"You made it."

"Hi," she whispered, unsure what else to say when they had such a large, hostile audience. Was that why he hadn't pounced on her yet? They'd never been good at getting on the same page about that kind of stuff, but she'd kissed him pretty thoroughly last time she saw him and she figured now was the proper time for a fierce embrace at least.

Instead he turned from her, back toward the Guard – toward Jordan – and returned with a gun.

It took everything within her not to recoil when he grabbed her hand and molded it to the trigger, nudging the barrel under his jacket.

"The Troubles haven't ended. I know what Howard told you. Killing me's the only way now."

Her blood froze like a Trouble, but her soul screamed. She wouldn't. She couldn't.

Then he was finally kissing her but it felt like goodbye and tasted like despair and Lexi was wondering about the handsome stranger who clearly loved whoever she had been and everything was wrong.

When he pulled away his hand tightened over hers, and she was afraid he'd force her to pull the trigger.

"Please. Please, Audrey." She couldn't understand why he'd want her to. This wasn't a show for the Guard. He was begging her to kill him, and he wanted her to listen.

_She wouldn't._

Audrey had always been quick on her feet. There was no way to reason with Nathan with the Guard all around them. No way to take out the Guard without unacceptable casualties. But Lexi was still in her head, equal parts fascinated and spooked by the drama unfolding around her.

That was easy enough to channel. _"I'm not killing anyone. Certainly not someone I've never met before."_ The southwestern brogue sounded strange in her own ears, but it flowed off her tongue effortlessly. "_And who's Audrey? My name is Lexi."_

There was something heart wrenching in how quickly Nathan's devastation faded to resignation, as if he was used to everything good crumbling from his grasp, but at least he was distracted enough for her to drop the gun.

She let the ensuing ruckus unfold around her, trying to gain her bearings as she hid behind Lexi's apprehension of the unknown. Strangely it was Dwight who diffused the situation, sending the disgruntled Guard away with an assurance that justice would be done as soon as they could make Audrey remember. There was something chilling in his tone, but his demeanor softened as soon as Jordon slunk away after them.

"I'll do my best to keep them contained. You take care of her. Try to trigger her memory."

"_She's_ right here," she sassed, unable to contain herself. Duke smiled, but Nathan remained stone-faced as the cleaner retreated.

Nathan had barely looked at her since she declared she wasn't Audrey, but the unfamiliar woman with the short dark hair was staring and doing a poor job of hiding it.

"We should get her home," Nathan said. All Audrey wanted to do was kiss the exhaustion out of his voice.

"Bout that." Duke scrunched up his face. "Jennifer's kind of been living above the Gull."

"I can bunk with you," the stranger offered, and Audrey caught the way Nathan's lips quirked upward, just for a second. Duke's eyes widened, and Audrey had to keep herself from smirking. "I mean, just for the night, and then you can find me another place. Cause Audrey – Lexi – should stay somewhere familiar. In case it helps her remember. It helped me channel the Barn. Least I think it did."

"Fine with me. Long as Prince Charming here shows me my new place." She jerked her head towards Nathan, who recoiled at the nickname as if she'd struck him. Duke smirked but the way he studied her made Audrey wonder if he didn't suspect something.

She waited in the Bronco with Nathan as Jennifer cleared out her stuff, the tension so thick it nearly choked her. "I'm sorry for scaring you back there. Haven's a complicated place. There's a lot I could tell you that wouldn't make much sense. You're a lot like a woman I used to know."

She knew Lexi would have some choice words at that, and she should say them to keep up the ruse. But she didn't have the strength. Nathan's devastation was too disarming. All she wanted was for Duke and Jennifer to leave so she could get him truly alone and figure out what the hell was going on here.

When she finally followed him up to her apartment he was rambling on about her living arrangements even though getting him to talk about something besides a case was usually like pulling teeth. She stopped in the doorway and waited for him to notice she had paused.

When he finally turned he must have known something was up from the look on her face. "What?"

"How did you think I could kill you?" she asked, dropping Lexi's voice.

But he didn't notice. "You don't have to worry about that right now."

"I don't have to worry? Like hell! After everything I did for months trying to keep you safe and then the minute I come back you think I'm going to put a bullet in your chest because that's what the Guard wants. I didn't know you were such an idiot."

He froze, eyes comically wide, but once he blinked again they were filled with such tangible yearning that for a few seconds she forgot to breath. "Audrey?" he whispered.

"Idiot," she repeated. But she could deny him no longer. She started toward him and he met her halfway just as their reunion should have gone, his arms wrapped tight around her trembling form as he dropped his head against her shoulder and just breathed. He was shaking too, his breath moist and raspy against her neck, and her hands searched for bare skin to convince him this was real in a way only she could.

He only ruined it when he reached for the gun that was no longer in his holster.

"Stop it," she hissed, grabbing his wrist. "I took the gun when we were in your truck. And if you think you're going to try that every time you see me you've got another thing coming."

He didn't pull away, just stared down at their hands. "You don't understand."

She loosened her grip, skimming her thumb across his soft skin until she heard his breath catch. "You're right. I don't. And I know that I need to." She raised her other hand to his face, gently exploring the sharp rise of his cheekbones, the stubble sprouting on his chin, the warm tears caught in the hollows under his eyes, the expanse of his forehead, and finally the softness of his lips. He stood silent and still under her attention, but his eyes fluttered closed as he savored it like a four course meal.

"Audrey," he finally breathed, reverent as a prayer.

"I don't want to hear the truth. Not right now. I just want you."

His eyes opened and found hers, and she could read the question in them.

"You gonna make me spell it out?" she teased.

He swallowed, realized his voice was gone, and then cleared his throat. "Don't think this is a good idea."

"Probably not. But I don't care." She was tired of sacrificing everything she wanted for the greater good. That was Audrey's M.O., but Lexi took what she wanted, whether it was her ex's wallet or the number of a cute guy at the bar. And right now she wanted to sex up the brooding stud in front of her until he forgot whatever made him so sad.

"I spent months living with an expiration date, thinking I was going to just disappear. Then I spent God knows how long as some lonely, purposeless barmaid. But apparently that isn't half as bad as whatever made you think me killing you is a good plan. I know we're both going to have to face that. But right now I just want to feel cherished. I want to take away the pain behind your eyes. I want to make you feel everything you never should have lost in the first place."

He swallowed again. "We shouldn't."

Audrey alone might have been deterred. But Lexi was more comfortable in her own skin than Audrey had ever been. Seduction was a tool of her trade, and Audrey borrowed a few tricks as she slid her body slowly against his, her lips trailing up his neck. "Forget what the town wants," she purred as he seemed to melt against her. Part of her recognized this wasn't fair to him; that he might be physically incapable of resisting her after being deprived of sensation for so long. But it hadn't been fair when he'd expected her to kill him, and this would be a far pleasanter punishment than most she could fathom. "What do _you_ want?"

He hesitated, and for a moment she was afraid he was too far gone for her to reach him.

But then he wrenched himself away and his long hands were framing her face and he was kissing her and she was finally home.

She'd thought the first time they would make love would be tender, tentative, but this was more like a thunderstorm, the passion engulfing them quick and sudden, a violent clashing of sound and light that ended in an eerie calm.

When her mind cleared and her heart stopped pounding she rolled back on top of him, pressing as much of her skin against his as she could manage, from her forehead to her toes. This is what William had meant, about true love that made her ache. She peered down at him, their eyes just centimeters away. "Let's try this again," she whispered. "Hi."

"Hi," he echoed. His eyes were bright, as if his body could not deny the wonder of what had just happened even if his mind might try to.

"Told you we'd feel better after that."

Just as she'd hoped, he couldn't remain stoic. "Yeah." There was a spark in his voice, and his lip twitched upward. She grinned down at him, and he got closer to a real smile.

"This is weird." He reached up to coil a chestnut curl around his finger. "Color looks nice on you, though."

"Nice?" she asked, disgruntled. They'd finally had sex, and she had all of Lexi's sultriness, and she was still just _nice_?

"Hot," he conceded, voice delightfully low.

"That's better." She nuzzled her nose against his, but pulled back when she felt the unexpected press of metal against flesh. "I have a nose ring," she whined.

He chuckled. "That will take some getting used to. The Chief definitely wouldn't approve."

It had been a joke, but mention of the Chief made it impossible to keep the world at bay. Knowing it was time to face reality, she slid off him but she didn't go far, laying her head on his chest. His arm came around to hold her to him, sticky and warm and safe. "How long have I been gone?"

"Seven months," he answered.

"What happened while I was away?"

"You first?" he pleaded.

So she told him about Lexi and the bar, and how a mysterious stranger helped her shatter the illusion and escape. How her memories had returned the moment she woke to his hand on her face and her name on his lips.

In turn he told her about the shootout and its aftermath. The devastation in Haven and the wave of Troubles that followed. Duke's reemergence in Boston, finding Jennifer there, and the voices she heard from within the Barn. How Howard's words birthed the only plan he could think of.

"One. Jeremiah Howard. Thirteen years old. Killed by a meteor when he was playing basketball with his father. Two. Emma Caldwell. Went blind and fell down the stairs, breaking her neck. Three. Eli Green. Four. Patrick Denver. Both attacked by seagulls." The litany of gruesome deaths continued until Audrey couldn't take it anymore.

"Stop." She reached out and grabbed his arm, but he didn't even pause.

"Fourteen. Sally Marigold. Incinerated."

"I get it. You're trying to make me feel guilty."

"You don't know anything about guilt!" he snarled, pulling away from her. "I couldn't let you go, and seventeen people died because of my selfishness. Horrible, unnatural deaths that were all my fault. I see them every time I close my eyes, and wherever I go the survivors remind me what I've done. I need to set this right. I need to keep anyone else from dying. Killing me is the kindest thing you could do for me, and if you love me at all—"

"If I didn't we wouldn't be in this mess," she snapped, unable to listen to his self-pity.

He froze. The most important truth of her life, and she hated that this was how she'd told him.

The stared at each other, neither sure how to move forward. She'd derailed his train of thought, but now she wasn't sure what to say either.

"I can't," she finally uttered, the finality of that resonating in her soul. "You couldn't let go of me when I went into the Barn. I can't let go of you now."

And she couldn't. There was a cold logic to his plan she just couldn't abide. It didn't matter what Howard said or who had been hurt. Now that she had him, she wasn't letting him go.

"I can't go on like this."

"We'll find another way." When he turned from her she pulled him back. "We will," she swore. "There's gotta be something in the Archives that can help us. Maybe if we can figure out how and when the Troubles started, we can come up with another way to stop them. It's not like Howard was particularly trustworthy. He told me I could keep looking for another way to avoid the Barn. Well now I'm going to keep looking."

"The Guard won't let you."

"They will if they think I'm Lexi. They need her to fall in love with you, so they'll give us space. She's still in my head. It'll be easy to pretend. You just have to really sell it, that I'm not back and you're trying to get close to Lexi."

He studied her until he abandoned the endeavor with a longsuffering sigh. "I spent months thinking that I'd killed all three of you. And then you came back and I thought it wasn't you."

"I'm sorry. I had to. I couldn't talk to you with the Guard there. And I couldn't shoot you. But I'm here now. You're not alone anymore."

He closed his eyes, but she could still see the tears glistening underneath them. He'd always been her well of strength, no matter how bad things got. Her love had left him dry and empty.

"Everything hurt. But I couldn't feel any of it."

She'd change that if it was the last thing she did. She threaded a hand through his hair, running her fingers across his scalp. The response he made was low and keening, his whole body seeking hers even though he didn't open his eyes. She obliged, her other hand finding his shoulder and tracing a deliberate pattern downward.

"This is my fault. The Barn is my punishment. I should never have let you get in the middle."

"I loved you too much to let you stop it."

That had been the problem exactly. In the name of protection they'd spent too long fighting each other to take on the world.

If the first time they made love was like a thunderstorm, the second time was a cleansing rain. She brought his dormant body back to life inch by inch and he proved his adoration with the beautiful words he whispered in her ear as his hands wrote symphonies across her body. She'd never held such power over another person. She'd never wanted so badly to please someone.

He was avid under her hands, but when it was over he was still sad.

"This will only make it harder for the both of us," he whispered, his nose against her shoulder.

She wanted to find his shirt on the floor, claim it for her own, curl up in his arms and stay there till morning. Instead she sat up and pulled away from him, wrapping the sheet around herself to remove temptation.

She was never allowed any luxuries.

"Get up. Get dressed," she demanded.

"I'm sorry."

Everything within her wanted to reach out to him, but she didn't. "You don't have anything to apologize for. But you've been up here too long. The Guard'll get suspicious. You need to go downstairs. Have some drinks. Cause a public spectacle. Then come back tomorrow."

"You really think you can pull this off?" he asked as she watched him dress, lamenting every inch of covered skin.

"Long as you don't give me away." She fell into Lexi's cadence almost without effort.

"She's still in there, huh?"

"Yeah." It was a little unnerving, sharing headspace with someone else's personality, but here in Haven she had three instances of unnerving every day before breakfast.

"She's not gonna … take over … is she?"

"William said on the other side of the door I'd be whoever I most wanted to be. Long as you're here, I want to be Audrey Parker."

And if he wasn't – she hoped that was a switch she could flip. Because she'd never survive Haven without him. But maybe Lexi could manage it.

"I just need some time. I'll figure this out. And if I can't – next time you ask me to pull the trigger, I'll do it."

She waited until the door shut behind him and she could no longer hear his footsteps on the deck before she let herself cry.

* * *

**I don't think for a minute this is the way the show's going to pan out, but a girl can dream – and then write that dream down.**

***This* is exactly why I'd hoped to finish The Return before the premiere. Because I'm well overdue a chapter – real life is kicking my ass – but then this little plot bunny took hold and I had to get it out before the next episode airs.**

**I've actually got a few more chapters in mind as other characters discover the ruse, but I'm not sure if they'll get written. Some encouraging feedback would probably help.**

**Can I just say, despite all the angst, how much I am loving this season.**

**This show.**


	2. Duke

**It is so hard to write anything even vaguely resembling angst right now (I'm pretending the last five minutes of Friday's show didn't happen, obviously.) How perfect was the beginning of _Crush_? Oh, my shipper heart. This show.**

**So, turns out this idea wasn't as crazy as I thought when I wrote it (I honestly believed there was no way the show wouldn't make us suffer through a Lexi doesn't remember being Audrey storyline), but the other chapters are quite obsolete now. But I'd already had them planned out and I'm hoping to explore a theory of mine before the show invalidates it, so I hope you enjoy anyway.**

* * *

Audrey woke to the smell of Nathan on her sheets, but he wasn't there. It took a few hazy minutes to remember that she had sent him away. Her body was slightly sore and thoroughly sated, but her mind was another matter entirely. Although Lexi was satisfied with how the night had progressed, Audrey was left unsettled. This was not how their morning after should have gone. There should have been soft touches, chaste kisses, gently teasing words and wide smiles. He should have tried to make pancakes, while she tried to distract him. He should have been _there_.

But she'd been the one to send him away, and it was her legacy that had gotten between them. There was no use whining about what couldn't be changed. She needed to find another solution so they could make up for lost time.

She showered and changed before wandering down to the Gull. Since it was only seven in the morning she expected to find the place abandoned. But Duke sat behind the bar, polishing tumblers.

He looked up when she entered. She caught his split second of shock at her unfamiliar appearance, but it morphed almost immediately into a casual half-smile. "Morning. Sorry if the noise kept you up last night. I took a little break from Haven, and apparently in my absence my brother decided to turn this place into a nightclub."

He seemed to have accepted Lexi with an ease Nathan was incapable of. The smart move would have been to make some brazen remark about whether his brother was as attractive as he was. It was imperative that the Guard believed she was Lexi. She would not let them put a gun in her hand and make her pull the trigger. The more people who knew the truth, the more opportunities for someone to slip up.

But under Duke's friendly veneer he looked nearly as worn down as she felt. She didn't want to add to that or face the consequences when he finally found out the truth. And she really didn't want to have to pretend here, in her safe space, when she desperately needed a confidant.

If she was going to be Lexi most of the time, she needed a chance to be Audrey every once in a while so she didn't forget.

So she ditched the innuendo and went for the truth.

"I didn't know you had a brother. Probably should have realized, since the firstborn son plague didn't affect you."

He didn't startle. His eye widened as he put down the glass he was holding, but he fixed her with an easy grin. "That's one hell of a long con, sweetheart."

She smiled back, knowing immediately that her decision was the right one. She felt slightly better already.

"Best I could come up with on the spot. Too many tempers and guns. There was no way that was going down the way the Guard wanted."

"I find that good advice to live by, generally."

It felt so good to laugh again. Duke came around the bar and she met him halfway in a fierce hug. "I'm glad you're back," he told her, pressing a kiss to her hair. She didn't usually allow him such liberties, but she was willing to make an exception just this once. He smelled like contraband and the sea – salt water mixed with some exotic spice.

"Glad to be back."

"Does Nathan know?" Duke asked as he pulled away. "Wait. I take that back. Of course he does. I knew something was off last night. He made a spectacle of himself, but he didn't really seem upset. Not the kind of devastated he'd be if you were really gone."

"Nathan knows," she confirmed.

"I hope he gave you a proper welcome back."

She felt her cheeks heat at exactly how improper it had been – his warm mouth and curious hands and the way he had arched into her every touch.

"Eww. I didn't think before I made that statement. Can I just say – finally – but I don't want any of those details. Like ever. We are not girlfriends. We will not be swapping stories of that kind."

"That's probably wise," she said with a chuckle.

"You want some breakfast? Maybe you can clear up a few things that won't scar me for life."

"Breakfast would be wonderful."

She followed him into the kitchen, bringing a bar stool with her so she'd have somewhere to perch as he cracked eggs and began mixing up ingredients. She told him about her time in the bar as Lexi, and how she hadn't realized anything was odd until a mysterious stranger upended her life by convincing her to jump through some cross-dimensional door.

"He was really there, I think," she concluded, spinning one of the thick metal rings on her finger. "Everyone else faded with the illusion – the patrons and my co-workers – but William was still there, urging me on. He had to be real."

"Maybe it was your subconscious, convincing you to hold on to Audrey. Fighting the new personality."

"I've never been able to fight it before. Why wouldn't my subconscious choose someone familiar – like you or Nathan?"

"I'm flattered, but between the two of us I know who your mind would conjure."

There was no spite in his tone, but something about his words hurt nonetheless. So she tried for levity, feeling slightly guilty about it the whole time. "I don't know. If I needed someone to create a compelling and creative argument, you might be my guy. Nathan's never been great at communicating how he feels."

"I hope he said something last night. Because it's been pretty damn obvious to the rest of us." Duke turned with two plates in his hand and set one down in front of her. Next to a pile of eggs were three fluffy pancakes.

"Oh God," she moaned, burying her head in her hands and closing her eyes against the shock of it, like she'd just come across a fatal accident. She had seen the haunted look in his eyes, the bowing of his shoulders, the new scars. Last night Nathan's guilt had practically scalded her. Duke's gesture tossed it right back in her face.

"What? You haven't been lying to Nathan all this time about liking pancakes, have you?"

"He was really that bad off?"

Duke peered at her through narrowed eyes. "He was totally off the reservation. But I'm not sure how you got that from my choice of breakfast foods."

"These are sympathy pancakes." She had to fight the urge to push them off the table ledge. Duke was not the one who should have made her pancakes this morning. "You prefer waffles. You've said so a million times. You made these because he would have. You're getting along. You're looking out for him. And for him to let you…" She trailed off with a shudder. So many times she had hoped for her boys to set aside their differences but this was surely too good to be true.

"Maybe my waffle maker just broke." She frowned, and he avoided her eyes by smothering his plate with syrup and cutting himself a bite. After a few chews he dropped his fork with a clatter. "I was right. These are crap."

He sighed, running his hand over his hair. "We were friends once, you know. When we were just kids, before the Troubles came and his father started protecting him and my father started raving about how it was our job to help cleanse the town from the damned."

She hadn't known that, actually. She knew frightfully little about what drew these men together and tore them apart. She only knew that she loved them both dearly, in different ways, and she couldn't imagine facing this town without them.

"I'd like to hear some of those stories."

"Maybe someday. Look, I don't know what he told you. The truth is I should have realized something was up last night because I'm not sure he would have survived if you were really Lexi. Though he seems intent not to survive you being Audrey and I've spent the past month trying to convince him that's an awful plan, but he won't listen to reason. I hope you've got a few tricks up your sleeve because his self-hatred's not something I've got a remedy for. And it kinds of ticks me off that I do care whether he gets himself killed."

Relief flooded through her that she had an ally in this. "I'm not going to kill him – and that's my choice, not his. We need to find another way."

"Any thoughts on how to go about doing that? Cause apparently Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum have nothing." He picked up his fork again and went back to his breakfast, starting with the eggs.

"Not at the moment. Until we figure it out, I need to keep being Lexi. No one else can know about this except you and Nathan."

"You really think you can pull this off?"

"I have to. Might not be too hard, though. Lexi's still in there."

"What do you mean? She like, possessing you or something?"

Audrey stared down at Lexi's iron studded and black tipped fingers. "It's almost like I'm possessing her. She's the one who's supposed to be here this time around."

"You don't mean that," Duke said sternly.

She wished that she didn't. How many times since she found the scar on her foot had she wished her life was less of a complicated mess? She was a puzzle, not a person. "I guess we're both parasites. There's a real Audrey Parker out there, which probably means there's a real Lexi DeWitt and this body isn't supposed to be either of them. The only thing that's actually real is what happened to me in this town. William said when I came back I'd be whoever I most wanted to be, and I wanted to be the one who befriended you and fell in love with Nathan and helped those who couldn't help themselves. But I still have Lexi's memories. They don't feel real, exactly, but they're there. So's her personality. I just need to let it take over and make sure I don't let any of Audrey's knowledge slip."

"What if Lexi gets – stronger – the longer she's here?"

"That's a risk I need to take." She looked Duke straight in the eyes and willed herself not to fold. She wished she had a stiff drink. Lexi had always been fond of liquid courage. "Speaking of which, do you happen to need a new bartender?"

"Depends." Audrey watched the seriousness melt away, leaving behind the mostly above board charming businessman. "Is she any good?"

"The very best in all of Arizona. If all of Arizona is part of a supernatural barn."

"Wouldn't be a bad idea to keep you close. Except it means there'll be a cop mooning around here all the time. I can't believe my bar is going to become your secret love nest. I'm gonna say it again – I don't want to hear about it. No oversharing, or I'm raising your rent. And I better not walk in on you two."

"It won't. We can't," she floundered, shaking her head. "No one else can know I'm not Lexi. Nathan knows, but we can't act on that."

"Sure. Good luck with that."

She snorted at Duke's obvious skepticism. "Lexi's not the only one who could use a drink right now."

"Lucky we're in a bar, right? Mimosas or Irish coffee? Bloody Mary, maybe?"

"Definitely coffee."

Duke left to grab a bottle of Bailey's, and Audrey used the time to mentally regroup. What if Duke was right? She used to be a pro at ignoring her attraction to Nathan, but that was before she'd gotten a real taste of the power she held over him. Now she knew the shade of his eyes when they were darkened with lust and what was hiding under every stitch of clothing. Even more intoxicating was the way his body could make her forget all of this for a few blissful minutes. Could she really act like none of that had happened, when she desperately wanted it to happen again?

For awhile they both nursed their spiked coffee in silence. Audrey was grateful for the way the booze and caffeine steadied her, warm and comforting – but not as warm and comforting as Nathan's arms would have been. Desperate for a lighter topic, Audrey latched onto the newcomer of their little band.

"So, Jennifer."

"What about her?" Duke's response was a little too deliberately nonchalant. The Duke Crocker she'd met when she first came to town would have had an immediate physical judgment.

"She's staying with you on the Rogue."

"It's temporary. She'll need a new place since you're home."

"From the look on Nathan's face when she suggested staying with you he seems to think there's something else going on."

"There isn't – yet."

"But you'd like there to be," she pressed.

"You're awfully pushy this time around."

"You told me not to overshare my personal life. We didn't say anything about yours."

Duke poured a measure of Bailey's into his empty mug and tossed it back. "What the hell, right?" She smiled encouragingly. She didn't know Duke could be shy about anything. "First thing Jenn did after I met her was break me out of the hospital. There I was, cuffed to a bed, raving about some Barn and needing to get back to Haven, and instead of running for the hills she flashed an orderly and took me on a road trip. She's taken everything about this crazy town in stride. We never would have gotten you back if she didn't figure out how to open that door."

"We'll have to figure out how she's connected to the Barn."

"Yeah. And whatever we ask of her she'll do, without reservation. Nathan went a little overboard at first, needing to figure out where you were, and all I wanted to do was protect her. That's not a natural instinct in me. Crockers look out for themselves. That's what my old man used to teach me."

Audrey recognized that protective spark. She'd never had anyone to watch out for until her trouble-prone partner made it clear he did an awful job of taking care of himself. Now she'd do nearly anything to keep him out of harm's way.

She was glad Duke had found someone to care for like that.

"She thinks I'm a good man. That's not a popular opinion around here. Probably not a right one, either, but she believes it. And damn if she doesn't make me want to be that person she sees."

"I've always known you were a good man."

"I'm not replacing you."

"Course not. I was never yours to replace." The words flowed from her tongue without thought, and she only regretted them after she saw the look on Duke's face. "Sorry, that was rude. Lexi's kind of a bitch."

Duke reached for the bottle again, but this time he poured some for the both of them. He raised his mug toward her, and she saw it for the peace offering it was. The mugs clunked with a deeper thud than wine glasses, and Audrey downed the liquor quick. "You were always terrible at these sorts of things. But you're right. It was always you and Nathan, from the beginning. I knew that since the night you blew me off to catch crooks with your stick in the mud partner. I didn't always want to accept it. But I knew."

She couldn't exactly say that she wished things had turned out differently. Aside from the fact that her love might kill him, she couldn't even fathom wanting to give up what she felt for Nathan. But she couldn't abandon Duke either. There had been times when he'd held her together when Nathan wasn't there to do so. She was only sorry she'd given him false hope of anything more. "You're my friend, Duke. I haven't always been able to say that about Nathan, but you…"

"Always what a guy wants to hear." He didn't sound bitter, exactly, but she still flinched at the sudden coldness in his tone. She hoped this Jennifer could return his feelings, because he deserved someone who could love him unconditionally.

But she didn't tell him that. It was a little too honest, and he was right – she was awful at this sort of thing. So she tried for levity instead. "The self-preservationist in you should be glad. Loving me's fairly dangerous these days."

The joke fell flat. There was little that was funny in their lives at the moment.

"Worth it, though."

But she thought of the look on Nathan's face when he'd asked her to kill him, and the echoed devastation when she'd pretended to be Lexi and when she'd kicked him out of bed. Even in their few stolen moments together he hadn't let joy take hold. "How can any of this be worth it?"

"Look, you don't get to give up," Duke said sharply, his vehemence taking hold of her as if he'd grabbed her shoulders. "Maybe Lexi's a quitter, but Audrey's not. There's too much at stake here. I'm gettin' real tired of having to play the hero. That's your job, and you used to do it well. You and Nathan. It's time for you two to get your act together and start putting this place back together, because it's falling apart without you."

She was startled to realize how right he was. She was feeling sorry for herself, and that wasn't something Audrey or Lexi could usually abide. But there was one thing he got wrong.

"You followed me into the Barn."

"Yeah?" he asked, derailed from his train of thought by her apparent non sequitur. "So?"

"Why?"

Duke hesitated. His breathing seemed particularly deliberate, as if he was using it to calm himself. "Because Nathan asked me to. The Barn was breaking up and he couldn't go after you himself. I know you'd chosen to go, but you weren't supposed to die in there."

"You could have died, or forgotten who you were. And you pretend not to even like Nathan. But you jumped in anyway. You're not playing at being a hero, Duke. You are a hero."

"That's debatable."

She shook her head. "Not to me. If we're going to figure this out we'll need your help. Three of us against the world."

She glared at him. Nathan had told her more than once that she could be scary when she was riled up, and she wasn't above using fear to get this point across. If he wasn't going to let her feel sorry for herself, she wasn't going to let him hide from who he really was. There was a certain allure to the rouge, yes. But he was far more than that underneath, and she's seen it time and again.

"We might have to make it four," Duke conceded. "Jennifer doesn't like watching from a distance."

"We can work with that." She'd have to get to know this Jennifer, make sure she realized what a catch Duke was. But anyone who could get Duke to voice what he'd shied from when Audrey implied it had to be good for him. "One more thing."

"Shift today starts at four. And you can't ask for a raise when you haven't even started yet."

"Smartass." But she laughed, and that was surely his intention. "Look, I don't know what's going to happen when I have to be Lexi all the time. I need you to keep an eye on me. Make sure Audrey's still in there. All right?"

"I think I can manage that. Now, my new bartender's got some paperwork to fill out. How about we go to my office? I may just have an embarrassing story or two about Nathan's misbegotten childhood if it doesn't take too long."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Really, don't mention it. But if Lexi wants to keep dressing a bit more provocatively than Audrey, I wouldn't mind."

She smacked him on the shoulder, but he chuckled and stepped to the side. "Gotta keep that armor a little tarnished."

But as long as he kept wearing it, she wouldn't mind.

* * *

**Next up: James. Plus more of _The Return_. I've forsaken writing another novel this NaNoWriMo for 50,000 words of Haven fanfic, so there should be lots coming from me this month. Reviews are even better motivation than caffeine, so I'd love some feedback to keep me going!**

**Thanks to all of you for reading.**


	3. James

**I had hoped to get this finished before this week's episode proved me wrong, but real life's been rough and I totally failed. As much as I guessed correctly in the first chapter of this, I'm equally off base here. But I'm still fond of this theory.**

* * *

Turns out Duke was right. She can't keep her hands off Nathan.

He comes to the bar every night and she flirts with him. Lexi flirts with anyone with a pretty face and a fat wallet, and he certainly fits those qualifications. What does her in is when he starts to flirt back.

At first it's a game to inject some levity into their disastrous lives. He blushes at her innuendoes and scandalous anecdotes, and Lexi's brazenness is an excuse to make all the physical observations Audrey would think but never voice. She knows she makes him uncomfortable, but she can't stop. Because these few awkward hours every night are her only chance to see him, and she needs that. She's never gone more than two days in this town without spending time with him and she's afraid if she spends too many Nathan-free days as Lexi that might be something she can't come back from.

She doesn't expect it when two weeks after her return he counters her comment about his cheekbones with one about her rack.

It's not smooth. But Nathan has never been smooth. He's usually a gentleman though, and this departure from form leaves her upended and a little turned on as she remembers his large hands on that particular part of her anatomy. She has been teasing him mercilessly. His lips quirk upwards in a hint of a smirk, and she thinks that's an improvement from all the brooding he's been doing.

But three more days of that and she can't take it any longer. She leans close as she slides a bottle toward him, and she knows he is peaking down her blouse. "There's a storage room in the back," she whispers huskily, her lips just barely brushing his earlobe, and she watches the shudder go through him. "Meet me there in five."

She is waiting when he enters and she pounces, her hands around his neck and her tongue down his throat before he can even acknowledge her. He groans but she doesn't let up. It isn't fair, that men are drooling over her all day and all she wants is him.

"Audrey," he tries to say when they break apart, but she covers his mouth with her hand.

"Lexi," she hisses. She's not, but no one else can know that. He cannot give her away, and she cannot allow herself to be Audrey when any slipup will mean his death at her hand. She'll lose herself if it will save him.

But staying away from him is killing her.

She doesn't know what to make of the look that crosses his handsome features – it could be fear or disappointment. Maybe it's grief. But she doesn't like it, so she closes her eyes as she kisses him again and pulls his shirt from the waistband of his pants.

They come together fast and hard against the closet wall, and he doesn't look at her as they straighten their clothing afterwards. He leaves first, and she prays she will not run into Duke. He will take one look at her swollen lips and mussed hair and _know_.

She never thought having sex with Nathan would be something shameful.

She can't stop, though. He grows bolder, almost reckless, and she is so damn lonely, so a couple nights a week they sneak off together to dark corners – the storage closet or the cellar or once a bathroom stall. On a few occasions, when the bar is nearly empty and she hasn't seen anyone with a tattoo all day she pulls him upstairs so they can have sex on a bed. But she still doesn't let him call her Audrey and she kicks him out as soon as they are through.

He asks her once, after, if she's still in there, and his tremulous whisper brings tears to her eyes. She nods, and kisses his cheek in the exact same way she had on the day Jess left all those ages ago, and does not touch him again for days.

Even Lexi knows they should be better than this. As much as the woman enjoys the thrill of sneaking around, she'd been intrigued by William's talk of big love, even though appearances required her to scoff. But she hadn't understood until she met Nathan. Now she comprehends enough to know that Nathan Wuornos is not the kind of man you fuck in the back of a bar. He's the kind of man you build a respectable life with, take home to the parents before starting your 2.3 kids and a dog white picket fence American dream. Except she doesn't have any parents. Couldn't even adopt a dog because her life was on a time clock counting down days. She cannot have a respectable life with Nathan if he is to have any type of life at all.

She curses the Guard every night she crawls into bed alone. She is no closer to solving any of this. They watch her every move, Jordan seemingly lurking behind every corner, so she can't do any investigating. She hopes he's asking questions, but she can't find out, and she is afraid he's just waiting for the other shoe to fall.

She is certain the Guard knows Nathan comes to visit her. They've probably also noticed how they sneak off together. She tells herself they expect Nathan to woo her, that even if they suspect Nathan and Lexi are sleeping together that doesn't mean she loves him. Tells herself again and again that her lack of self control will not be the death of him.

Sometimes, after he is gone and she feels cold and empty, she wonders if it would be easier if she was just Lexi. She would not love him, and he would be safe, and she would not be torn in two.

Then she thinks of the way he'd asked if she was still there, scared and pleading, and Audrey holds on.

Nothing changes for weeks, and then one evening she surveys her customers and sees a familiar face.

"We always going to meet like this?" she drawls, trying to hide the thrill that runs through her. Maybe now she'll finally get some answers.

"When I told you you'd be whoever you most wanted, I didn't expect you to choose this." He seems both disappointed and cross, a stark contrast to how calm he'd been in the Barn.

She takes another look around, but she hasn't seen anyone suspicious. It's eight o'clock on a Wednesday, so there are folks in the restaurant but only a few regulars at the bar. She lowers her voice anyway, pitching it so anyone overhearing would probably think she was just getting friendly. "And I didn't expect someone to put a gun in my hand and tell me I had to kill the one I loved. Had to improvise."

His obvious shock amuses her, and she laughs throatily. He had told her so many impossible things. It's nice to finally have the upper hand.

"Thanks for the heads up on that, by the way."

He frowns, "I was in there with you. Didn't exactly know what was going on outside."

"Obviously." She flashes him a cheeky smile and then turns to get him one of the microbrews he prefers.

"He bothering you?" Nathan's voice curls around her like smoke, low and dangerous, and she feels it prickle down her neck. She pivots, bottle in hand, to see him towering over William with a glare that makes him seem almost feral. She's never seen him so jealous. It's completely unwarranted and a little out of line, but there's something about his territorialism that she appreciates. At least she no longer has to wonder how he feels about her.

She wants him to know he's the only one she has eyes for. She smiles at him, and he eases up a little. "Nah. We've met before. At this place I used to work. It was a real barn. His name's William." She hopes he catches her drift. She'd mentioned the stranger who helped her get home, but she's not sure she'd told him his name.

"It's James, actually," Williams says.

She drops the bottle and it shatters. "I don't pay you to serve the floor," Duke scolds, but she can read the concern in his eyes as he approaches from further down the bar. She waves him off. This is not his riddle to deal with. Nathan has gone still, his eyes comically wide, and she know he must have reached the same conclusion she did.

She pushes the largest pieces of glass out of the way with her boot and then pours three shots of expensive whiskey. She downs hers immediately, then watches Nathan and James clink theirs together before doing the same.

He looks nothing like the young man she'd cradled in her arms after Arla's rampage. He doesn't act like him either; James had been timid and unsure, while William's persistent confidence had saved her life. But there had always been something familiar about that stranger, and in Haven, far crazier things had happened.

James had been in that barn with her, somewhere. And William had been real, when everyone else had faded with her delusion.

"You failed to mention that," she accuses. He's clearly amused by the situation now, his blue eyes twinkling, and she realizes that maybe she has seen that particular shade before.

"You had enough trouble accepting who you were. Didn't think adding myself to the mix was wise."

"Why do you look different?" she demands.

"You look different," he counters.

She rolls her eyes and fingers a two-toned curl. "Not really. Different hair. A couple of piercings. You're unrecognizable."

"The Barn resurrected me twice. Came with a price the second time around. New look. New personality. New task."

"You're the new Agent Howard," Nathan realizes.

"Something like that. Though you do realize he wasn't really an agent of anything, right? His first name was Byron. At least, that's what he liked to pretend it was."

Her head was spinning so fast she wasn't sure if another drink would sooth her or make life unbearable. Most of the time it was hard enough to comprehend that she had an adult son, but the thought that he'd gone and gotten himself further enmeshed in this impossible situation was absurd.

Nathan tries to reason this through though, God bless him. "If you're supposed to be some Barn Guardian, and the Barn is gone…"

"Not a Guardian of the Barn. Guardian of _her_." He tilts his head toward Audrey. "The Barn's only important if she goes into it."

Her headache's colossal now. Between the noise of the bar, the lack of sleep, and the extra person in her head she's had near constant migraines since her return. After nearly two months of listening to whining patrons' non-supernatural problems – because anyone with real Troubles knows to steer clear of Duke Crocker's bar – she's gotten rusty and lost all her patience. "Wait a second. Back up a couple of decades. Since you're the only one who seems to understand how this Barn works, how about you tell us what the hell is going on?"

"We'd have to back up a couple of centuries. This isn't the place. Or the time."

"Are you serious? I expect that sort of bullshit from Vince and Dave. Not from you."

He's completely unfazed by her aggression, and that's aggravating in itself. "Was Howard ever forthcoming with answers?"

"Howard wasn't my son."

He doesn't flinch, but Nathan does, before doing a poor job of inconspicuously scanning the bar to see if anyone has overheard her outburst. Duke is watching them with narrowed eyes, but no one else seems to be. "There are answers you need to discover on your own. You'll never find them hiding here. You're wasting your talent."

"I'm keeping your father alive," she hisses. "If I stop being Lexi, they'll make me kill him, and that's not an option. Lexi's a bartender. I don't know why she was chosen or how she got stuck in my head. Maybe you do. But here I am."

"Lucy was a journalist. Sarah was a nurse. You don't have to be a police officer to help the Troubled. Whatever personality you have, the instinct to help is always there. So come up with an excuse to use it."

His tone stings, and it's absurd that she had just been scolded by her own son. But what stings more is the fact that he is right, and the idea had never occurred to her. Hell, even Duke has been helping with cases in her absence, and he had told her how just last week someone had confused him with a police consultant.

Hell had frozen over, and she'd been too busy hiding and wallowing to notice.

"It'd just be a band-aid," Nathan says. "She could help all the Troubled by ending this."

She breathes deeply and exhales through her mouth. She wants to throttle him for thinking he's coming to her defense by reminding them all that she should kill him. But the need to sooth his guilt is nearly as strong. She cannot bear his self-flagellation. As stubborn as she is, sometimes she is afraid that will wear her down. She wants to give him peace, and he is so certain he will never find it in this life.

"Byron did like to bring that up, didn't he? But I wasn't a big fan of that plan when I thought Lucy might come after me. I'd be a pretty awful son to advocate my mother killing my father."

Relief floods her, leaving her with a foreign emptiness as all her worries are temporarily obscured. She grabs Nathan's hand and squeezes. His fingers curl around hers, cool and rough. "So there's another way."

James smiles enigmatically. "There's always another way."

"What is it?" she demands, leaning forward.

"Can't tell you that, sorry. Being a Guardian comes with a whole lot of rules. But I'm glad you found each other at least. You've always been better together than you are apart."

"Seriously?" Audrey groans.

"Seriously," James parrots with a wink. "See you around. Hopefully not here." He claps Nathan on the shoulder. "Dad." He salutes Audrey across the bar. "Mom." With a final grin he turns and exits the Gull.

Audrey watches him go. When she looks back at Nathan he is rubbing his shoulder. "I felt that," he says, his voice low with awe.

It is suddenly too much to deal with out here in the semi-open, where they have already spoken too freely. "Meet me in the back in five," she tells Nathan.

She goes to the kitchen to grab a broom and when she returns Nathan is gone. Duke corners her while she sweeps up the glass. "Is everything okay? That was a pretty intense discussion. Who was that guy?"

"It's better than okay. I think. At least it could be."

"You're not making much sense, sweetheart."

But she doesn't have time to explain. "I have to find Nathan."

He grabs her arm as she brushes past him. "At least tell me who that was."

"James," she whispers, and the wonder of that washes over her anew.

"How, exactly?"

"Later," she promises. She will tell him everything later, locked in his office, and maybe he will help her make sense of it. But now there is someone else she needs to see, and every minute is precious.

Nathan is waiting for her. She throws herself into his embrace, and everything begins to come into focus when she tucks her head under his chin and he strokes his hand through her hair.

"He's alive," he breathes. She's not sure that's exactly true; it's almost certainly not that simple. Howard had told her James was part of the Barn now, and she had never thought to question that meant anything more than being trapped there when it was destroyed. But the relief in Nathan's voice mends a bit of her soul she hadn't even realized was damaged. Their son is not dead because of his actions. This is one piece of guilt he no longer has to carry, and she is exceedingly grateful for that.

There is something else she's grateful for. She tilts her head up and whispers into his skin, "There's another way." He shivers, and she is not sure if it's the contact or the thought of a life beyond this that's affecting him. But she resolves that they will have that life, together. She will have enough hope for the two of them, if she must.

She wishes they could celebrate properly, with soft words and lingering touches and all the truths they have never expressed. She wants to plan for that future, to lie in his arms and imagine the children that would come next, the way they'd run the police station when the worst crimes they faced were jaywalking and kittens in trees, the wedding vows she would swear to convince him that a life together would be far better than a violent act of penance. She wants pancakes and cuddling and laughter, and she wants them to start tonight and go on fifty years at least.

Instead she stands in the shelter of his arms until too much time has passed, and then she rises on her tiptoes to press her forehead against his. "Don't give up on me," she pleads, willing him to listen, but she leaves before he opens his eyes, unable to face his answer.

* * *

**I was so wrong about this theory, alas. I do hope that we eventually see more of James on the show. Because not only is he Nathan and Audrey's son, but the Colorado Kid was too huge a plot point to discard so casually. Now that Audrey doesn't have to pretend anymore, I hope she and Nathan have a conversation about him at least.**


	4. Dwight

The next time Nathan gets a case, he convinces Dwight that he needs a consultant.

It's odd being in the police station as Lexi. The official story is she has amnesia, so all the officers call her Audrey but marvel at the hoop in her nose and the heavy makeup. But everyone who really knows her at all calls her Lexi, and she has to pretend to be her even as acquaintances assume she's trying to remember. It's mentally exhausting in a way the Gull wasn't. There she really was Lexi most of the time, until Nathan sat across from her and she became some weird hybrid of the two. Now everything is an act. It's impossible not to be Audrey when there's a Trouble to solve. Her instincts flare to life, and she won't put Nathan or herself in danger by letting Lexi run the show. But she needs to censor every word that comes out of her mouth – twist her vocabulary and dumb down her theories without losing the gist of them. She needs to throw Nathan off balance and make everyone uncomfortable and pretend to be freaked out when people start growing extra limbs or turning into plants. Plus Lexi always had a good excuse to drown her sorrows but she needs to be sober now. She takes Advil for the migraines, and she still keeps a few night shifts at the Gull, because she needs an excuse to talk to Duke and flirt with Nathan and Lexi demands to be let out every once in a while.

It's also a relief, even if the exhaustion is more acute. There have definitely been days she feared Lexi wasn't something she could come back from; that one morning she'd wake up and Audrey would be truly lost. She has missed using her mind and chasing theories. They're not Nathan and Audrey – they can't be – but it still soothes her to have Nathan at the desk across the room or sitting next to her in the Bronco. In the daylight she can see the shadows on his face that the dim bar hides. Sometimes he is dark and brooding, and other times he follows her around like a new puppy, and it's obvious to everyone that he's trying to impress her. But sometimes they are discussing a case, understanding firing between them despite the silly words she's using, and she imagines a future where they can give up this charade and go back to their real lives.

She's given up their late night trysts because it makes compartmentalizing in the daytime too hard. She manages to keep her hands off him for a week, trying to think back to times when she admired him from afar but didn't dare let herself touch. But then she watches him get chewed out by a witness for letting the Troubles continue, and his stoic misery on the drive back to the station eats at her. She can tell he is mortified that she had witnessed this. But she also knows he believes everything that man had said and that guilt pains her almost as much as it pains him. She is the reason for all his crimes.

He doesn't talk when they get back to his office, just clenches his jaw and taps his pen against the desk as he stares sightlessly at a report.

She has to do something.

"C'mon," she demands, crossing to him and reaching out to stop the obnoxious tapping. His hand stills when she grabs it, and he drops the pen. Her fingers squeeze his lightly, and then she tugs him toward her. He obeys, a slightly dazed look on his face.

"Where are we going?"

"You're more tightly wound than a frog in a pond full of gators. It's distracting."

His face crinkles at her expression. She rolls her eyes. She doesn't know where it came from either.

"Whatya gonna do about it?"

She leads him down the hall, scanning for witnesses – but it's a Saturday, and they're only there because they're working a case. She pulls him into a supply closet that Lexi shouldn't even know exists.

"This isn't a good—" But his protest dies as she runs her hand over his face. He surely expected her to start with a kiss. Lexi always does, rough and demanding until they're both gasping for air. But what comes off as Lexi's ferocity is really Audrey's desperation. And that's not what she wants to convey right now. So she traces his features lightly, finding something steadying in the way he presses toward her.

When she finally kisses him it's soft and gentle, her fingers nimble against his neck. Instead of taking she's just giving, trying to make him feel all the words she can't say. It would have been hard to be that honest even if Lexi wasn't between them now. He is the only good thing in her life, and she is terrified of how she's already corrupted him. And as much as he craves absolution, she cannot give it to him.

There is a time clock on this game they are playing. She knows there will come a day when his guilt grows stronger than his love for her. He will resent her for her unwillingness to kill him, and then even if they both somehow survive this situation there will be nothing worthwhile left. She fears that even more than losing herself to Lexi, because it is out of her control.

These kisses are short, sweet, and they spark a warmth within her that's different from the passion of their other encounters. She pulls back but stays close, glad to see that for a moment he does not look so conflicted.

"Audrey," he says reverently, but she frowns and shakes her head. It makes everything so much more complicated that sometimes he must call her that at the station. But she cannot let herself get used to it. The ruse gets so much harder the more she switches back and forth.

His disappointment nearly shatters her resolve. Instead she closes her eyes and buries her head in his shoulder, willing him to understand.

She feels him brush the hair away from her face, and his tenderness makes her feel like their roles are reversed and he is the one bringing her skin back to life. She twists her head to look up at him. He isn't smiling, but he isn't frowning either. She supposed that is the most she can ask for.

"You shouldn't listen to that man," she drawls. "This is a helluva lot more complicated than he knows. Most people make stupid choices when they're in love." Lexi's not supposed to be aware of the situation, but his devotion to her doppelganger is impossible to miss.

"Those choices don't usually get twenty-seven people killed."

"You've saved more than you've lost." She knows that to be true. There have been times the whole town would have crumbled if they didn't intervene. Sometimes it is just a building full of people, or all of Haven's firstborn sons. Sometimes it's one person, or a family. But there have been so many instances that the overall tally has to be quite impressive, even if she's never bothered to keep track.

"I could have stopped some of them from needing saving."

"Keep it together Wuornos." Audrey had never had much patience for his self-pity, and this glimmer of her seems to pull him from his spiral.

* * *

Sometimes they sneak away because he needs reassurance. Sometimes it's because he is damn sexy when he is on his game.

Today is one of those times. They'd just finished talking to the ME, and Nathan was making all the right connections even faster than she was. He was anxious to run off after the suspect, but Stan was running plates and they couldn't do much of anything until they had a direction.

_Couldn't do much of anything related to the case._

"Nice work, detective." He must be able to read her thoughts by her tone of voice because she watches him gulp and go very still. She leaves his office, and he follows without question.

It's not quite as tawdry as the bar, she decides, because they'd been heading toward this since the very beginning. She's always prided herself on her professionalism – even if that mostly stems from the fact she's never had anything personal worth getting in the way of her job. But she's no saint, and it's not like she never had errant fantasies about getting a little frisky in the break room with her studly partner long before she understood how deep the feelings ran between them. She had even hoped they'd get to this point, those few days between their first kiss and her abduction - sneaking away because they couldn't keep their hands off each other. They're attractive people in a high stress environment, and it's kind of a miracle this never happened before she went away.

Even once Lexi goes, it's still probably going to happen.

She won't let things go as far as they did at the Gull, though. The results should be back in a few minutes, after all, and they need to catch this guy before anyone else gets hurt.

They can't leave any evidence, either. It's too warm for turtlenecks, and neither of them can pull off a decorative scarf. So she forces herself to be gentle, dragging her lips across his skin but not her teeth. She slips her hand under his shirt not because she wants to take it off but because she wants him to feel it. His blissful sigh almost shatters that resolve.

He is so tall she needs to strain up toward him, but he takes notice of her plight and lifts her effortlessly. She is half aware that they are moving backwards as she wraps her legs around him. This is getting more heated than she anticipated but she cannot bring herself to care. He sets her on a filing cabinet and it makes the angles so much better. He really is a fantastic kisser, which makes no sense since he's had so little practice, but god does she appreciate it.

By the time she registers the sound of the doorknob turning it's too late. Nathan freezes as someone clears their throat, but a fierce protectiveness wells up inside her, even as she knows this is her fault. She extracts her hand and her face and peers over Nathan's shoulder, already running through their possible discoverers and ways to undo the damage. Stan could probably be sworn to secrecy. A few of the other officers might be bribed.

Her heart nearly stops when she see that it is Dwight.

She pushes Nathan back gently and jumps down to the floor, hiding behind his larger frame for a few seconds while she adjusts her hair and clothing. Then she steps in front of him, pulling at his hand as an entreaty for him to turn around so they can face this together.

Dwight's face is unreadable, but his voice is stern. "The results are in. When Don said you were in here, I didn't expect to find you doing that."

Audrey curses herself. They should have gone to the supply closet instead of the file room. But the station was busy, and she'd thought this would be less suspicious. She should have realized that meant someone could come looking for them.

Trouble was when he started touching her, she stopped thinking much of anything.

"This—not—we weren't—" Nathan stammers, completely unhelpfully.

But there is no other explanation for their compromising situation. Dwight isn't an idiot, and she's never found an excuse for wrapping her legs around her partner that doesn't involve some pretty heavy making out. If it were eight months ago she'd crack some awful joke about looking for a file, both men would blush and they'd deliberately forget this ever happened. But times have changed.

Better to rip off the band-aid and face the consequences.

"This is pretty much exactly what it looks like."

Her voice gives her away. "Audrey?"

She considers lying. He might not believe her, but he might not go to the Guard without proof. Of anyone outside the Guard to catch them in the act Dwight is probably the most dangerous. Jordan visits him often, and though Audrey doesn't know what is said behind closed doors her public proclamations are pretty self explanatory. His loyalties have always been a bit of a mystery. He'd just shown up one day, quoting a working relationship with the elder Wuornos that Nathan had never been aware of. He's been a help again and again, but Audrey also remembers him on Duke's boat, prepared to steal that box no matter the collateral damage. He isn't part of the Guard, but they're connected somehow. They respect his authority in a way they'd never respected Nathan's, not even when he was making dirty deals to infiltrate them.

Though he never shows any outward antagonism to Nathan that doesn't mean he doesn't feel it. He'd asked Audrey once if she planned on going into that Barn and hadn't tried to sway her either way, but the situation in Haven has drastically shifted since that conversation. He'd lost his daughter because of the Troubles, and in his current role his Trouble puts him in danger every single day, especially since the Guard has taken it on themselves to become an armed militia. Even if he holds no ill-will towards Nathan, he might see his death at her hand as a necessary sacrifice for the greater good.

But maybe she's just biased. It grates on her to see Dwight wear Nathan's badge, work in his office, respond to his title. The man seems competent and fair, and he hadn't been the one to run Nathan out of town.

Ultimately, it's her exhaustion that makes the decision. The ruse is wearing thin, and in that moment, still flushed from Nathan's touches, she can't muster the energy for a convincing Lexi. If she lies he will see right through it, and that will be more justification to report them.

She doesn't exactly trust him. But she thinks he can be reasoned with.

"Yeah," she admits, pushing her hair away from her face. "Hi."

"How long have you been back?"

Again a lie might be fortuitous, but she can't manage it. "Does it really matter?"

"It's always been you," he realizes. Something dangerous creeps into his tone and she hears Nathan stir behind her, ready to get between the two of them if he must. She grabs his arm to steady him before the situation escalates. Nathan wouldn't feel the hits, but Dwight is a huge man.

"Would you have done any differently to protect someone you loved?" she says, the first full sentence she'd uttered as Audrey in a couple of months sounding foreign to her ears.

"What about your promise to the Guard?" he says, addressing Nathan instead of herself. She straightens, wishing she was taller and more imposing, and she reaches back to lay a hand over his heart. She speaks before he can, not wanting to hear his response.

"He intended to keep it. But it's my decision, not his. And I've decided to find another way to end this."

"And if there is no other way?"

Dwight's not the only one waiting for an answer. She looks back at Nathan and he is staring at her. She grabs his hand and links their fingers. She has always known this was just a matter of time. She had hoped James would have told them something useful by now, but every time he shows up he is cryptic and entirely unhelpful.

"Then I'll do what he asks." They are the hardest words she's ever had to say.

Nathan actually half smiles at this and she wants to punch him in the arm, but she doesn't. She turns to Dwight instead. "Please don't tell the Guard," she pleads.

After a long moment Dwight nods. "All right. But try to be discrete. If they find out on their own I can't protect you. Besides, this isn't acceptable workplace behavior."

She imagines how the original Chief would have looked if he'd caught them like this. Probably red-faced and scandalized. She can imagine him dragging them out in front of their co-workers to read Nathan the riot act for his indiscretion. But no one would try to kill them for it, and she imagines on some level the senior Wuornos would have been proud of his son for making a move.

Thankful Dwight is less dramatic.

"It won't happen again," Nathan promises, the tips of his ears tinged pink.

"It's probably going to," she says matter-of-factly after Dwight has left, patting Nathan's hair down to make him look more presentable before pressing a final kiss to the corner of his mouth.

And it does.

* * *

**I really got into a grove this weekend. More of **_**The Return**_** coming soon, as well as a conclusion chapter for this. We're finally getting some answers, with the end actually in sight (kind of). If you enjoyed this, please leave me a review. I love hearing what resonates with my readers.**

**And can I just gush about some of the Nathan/Audrey scenes we've gotten this season? Wow. When they're not in the middle of a crisis, they're just so perfect I can barely stand it. I only wish they weren't almost constantly in the middle of a crisis. How about more than two minutes of fluff per episode? But still. I just can't complain with the direction the show has been taking this season. And I certainly wasn't saying that about season three.**


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